


Passion

by toofenen



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Don't know what to put here, Letter, M/M, Short, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 03:22:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17973539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toofenen/pseuds/toofenen
Summary: Marius finds a letter in the backroom of the cafe.





	Passion

I like the way we work. It feels natural. As if this was the way the universe was supposed to turn out. We’re counterparts. Enjolras is passionate, me not so much. Enjolras has such passion and mine is solely reserved to support his. Enjolras is beautiful. My appearance is pitiful.

Even though I won’t admit it, I rely on him. He provides a backbone to my flimsy, let’s-not-think-of-consequences, approach on life. I had rejected this realization for so long. It wasn’t till I saw his passion falter did I realize how much I admire it. Seeing Enjolras doubting himself is just so uncharacteristic. And that’s when I immediately regretted wanting to see him with a few bottles of alcohol in his system.

Seeing Enjolras worrying about all the things I had only half-heartedly spit out, ruined the burst of pride I got from getting him drunk. As much as it would seem, Enjolras did not get more easy-going when drunk. I was the only other person conscious after the night of drinking, which meant I was the only one to ramble to. Either that, or Enjolras genuinely wanted to talk to me. The feeling at the bottom of my chest is telling me it wasn’t the latter.

Enjolras, with his slurred words, confessed to me, “I wish you guys would sit out. As much as I want to believe otherwise, you do generally have a point. Perhaps, everything won’t go as smoothly as I hope it will. I don’t want to watch everyone die. If everything takes a turn for the worst, I’d rather you wouldn’t join me in death.”

To which I replied with a question that I was hesitant to even ask. “Do you not have faith?”

After a pause that seemed to hang in the air like fog, Enjolras spoke again. “All is accounted for, except the part of me that seems to stray behind. I do wish I could genuinely say I’m all in, but every time...” His spiel trailed off as his words became more and more hard to understand.

The regret I felt was immense. My immediate thoughts came out instantly. “I just don’t have a filter, Enjolras! Never take everything I say with so much sincerity! I think your plan is beautiful and is much needed in these times. So please, have faith.”

Enjolras had let out a laugh. “You must be drunker than you usually are. _Actually_ supporting me? Such a change of pace from our usual routine.”

“Never did I doubt you.”

I felt Enjolras’ head collide with my leg and with that, I was the only one awake, left to think.

I came to realize how much I changed since joining the ABC. And all of it traced back to Enjolras. With him, I changed. And I have to admit that it seems for the better. I’m actually doing something instead of wasting away in a corner no one shall ever find, nursing a bottle of alcohol.

That night I realized one last thing. I realized that perhaps, the admiration and trust in Enjolras wasn’t all what I believed it was. The only time I had felt something similar were the few short minutes where I had fallen for someone. Usually someone who was quite out of my reach. But those times I had forgotten about them the night of. Yet here I am, still sitting in the Café Musain. Suddenly the head on my leg seemed lighter.

I could never tell him this, especially seeing how whole the tomb of Lamarck thing is tomorrow. That’d be too much. There is also a strong doubt that he would ever except me. I’ve never seen him look at anything with lust, except for perhaps his plans for the revolution. Which I will not count. My plan right now is too wait.

Once the barricade finishes smoothly, which I have now decided _definitely_ will, perhaps I will tell him. It’s hard enough to not let anything slip all ready. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, I’d rather know he didn’t than blindly pining from afar. I’ve ran a thousand different scenarios in my head, each of them making me feel weightless on their own. If my mere imagination can make me feel that way, I can only wonder what I would feel like if he _did_ except me.

For now I will continue with our usual routine. Enjolras is the believer, I the skeptic. Enjolras is passionate, I merely a drunkard. I will fill the position already set out for me. It is right next to the person that I want to be with anyways. And that will be enough to take me through any situation I’m put into.

Writing this out feels odd, dangerous almost. Something that I’ve never told a soul suddenly out and on paper for anyone to read. I wouldn’t much mind if Enjolras found this. I hope he won’t be too put off.

Anyways, the Revolution starts tomorrow. Tomorrow, Paris will change. Tomorrow, everything will fall into place. Tomorrow, Enjolras’ faith will not go to waste.

~*~

Marius put down the paper with an expression that few could read. After a minute, a sad smile grew on his lips. “Why am I not surprised?” The smile quickly disappeared when the weight in his chest returned. “How much I wish I could see your dreams come true, R…” With that, he walked away from the aging table standing in front of him and closed the door.


End file.
